


Unforgotten

by medusamary



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Arora-chichou | Alola, Gen, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, kalos crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 07:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14732892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medusamary/pseuds/medusamary
Summary: He can hear their panicked screams, and Greninja - their bond, he wishes he could sever it in two to stop his pokemon feeling this pain.





	Unforgotten

Screaming. There is constant screaming. Is it his? He can’t tell. All he knows is that the world is ending and he’s powerless to stop it. 

 

The betrayal stings, and seeing Alain stood watching as his energy is forcefully ripped from him almost hurts as much as the process itself. He berates himself for being so trusting, for allowing this madness to continue, for not saying a proper goodbye to his friends. And for getting his pokemon mixed up in this too. Arceus, they don’t deserve this. He can hear their panicked screams, and Greninja - their bond, he wishes he could sever it in two to stop his pokemon feeling this pain.

 

He has to do something. His limbs are useless, pulled taut against the restraints. But he still has determination. He takes a breath, says a silent sorry, a silent goodbye.

 

“Lysandre…” he grounds out, trying and failing to stop the pain leaking into his voice. 

 

The man seems to humour him, turning to fully face him with a mocking smile.

 

“Yes, oh chosen one?” The smirk on his face makes this all the more frustrating, the fact that Lysandre knows he’s won, and knows that Ash knows too. He’s smug, and Ash would say rightfully so if this situation had anything righteous to it.

 

Ash bites back a growl, before answering, “You can have me,” shouts of protest arose from his pokemon. “But let my pokemon go.” The shouts grow louder, and Pikachu looks like he’s about to break his bonds with sheer anger. Or fear. Probably both. Ash looks away, gives all his attention to Lysandre. His last moments with his pokemon shouldn’t be like this. They shouldn’t have to see him scared - even if all he wants right now is to go back to Pallet and let his mother hug him until he forgets about evil plots and legendary pokemon and being Chosen. Arceus, he wish he’d said goodbye.

 

Lysandre chuckles. “Ever the noble one, aren’t we?” he teases even as his expression grows clouded with annoyance; the kid has riled up his pokemon, who are in turn creating a cacophony of ceaseless noise. Something in his eyes darken, but the smirk stays unnaturally in place. He barely looks human. “Let’s see how noble you are after this.”

 

He taps a button on his device, and suddenly all Ash knows is pain.

 

* * *

 

Mallow and Lillie giggle at the sight of a sleeping Ash - Kiawe and Sophocles seem amused too, though Lana gives the impression of a Jigglypuff with a pen. He’d arrived looking bedraggled; he’d told everyone in his typical fashion that no, he hadn’t slept too well, but yes, he was fine. And then promptly passed out on his desk. It was a while until class started, so they’d let him sleep (and maybe give his face some, uh,  _ art _ , while he was out). Pikachu had seemed worried but, well, he is the closest to the boy. Though after a minute of quiet fretting the pokemon settles down, still sending glances his trainer’s way every so often, but otherwise calm; everyone takes it as a sign that everything is okay.

 

Ash occasionally lets out small noises, uttering Pikachu’s name among others. Each one gets a round of suppressed giggles from the class, who are valiantly trying not to wake the boy up. It’s all good fun until Ash lets out a small gasp, and Pikachu is suddenly on full alert. He recognises the beginnings of this nightmare anywhere.

 

“What’s wrong, Pikachu?” Mallow questions - she can’t see anything wrong. Ash is still sleeping, and yet Pikachu is fussing over his trainer, seemingly trying to wake him up.

 

“Pikapi… Pikapi!” Pikachu sounds worried, and only looks more stressed as Ash’s

face contorts in what could only be pain. All the humans fall silent, confusion and worry clouding their expressions. Is Ash… having a nightmare?

 

Ash begins talking again, but they wish he hadn’t

 

“No… no…” tears begin falling, and Pikachu shakes his trainer even harder. Everyone freezes - they’ve never seen Ash cry before. It must be something really bad, to do this to him.

 

“Let them go…” he mumbles, and that line stirs everyone into action. They can only wonder what this nightmare is about, but for now they have to wake him up. They call his name, and join Pikachu in shaking him, until-

 

Ash jolts awake with a cry, pushes back off the desk, sending his chair clattering to the floor. He scurries backwards until he hits the wall and sinks to the floor as he tries to catch his breath, eyes unfocused and pupils blown wide. Pikachu slowly approaches him as he comes to his senses, and everyone realises that Pikachu is probably used to this - Pikachu will be able to help calm him better than anyone else right now. Lillie takes initiative, backing away first; everyone, sensing that she is the authority on this situation, follows her lead.

 

“Pikapi,” Pikachu says softly, still about a metre away. Ash flinches at the sound, eyes still clouded over with memories. “Chu pika?” Pikachu asks, to which Ash extends a shaking hand. Pikachu moves forward, needing no further cues. Ash’s hand runs through Pikachu’s fur, grounding himself in the present bit by bit until his eyes clear and he finally  _ looks  _ at his companion. Pikachu looks right back, and the understanding and patience in his pokemon’s eyes, although he’s seen it millions of times, still almost makes him burst into tears again.

 

“Yeah. We’re okay now. It’s ok.” His tears have stopped flowing, yet his voice is still unsure, wobbly. He raises his eyes - and promptly lowers them in shame when he realises where he is. All his friends are surrounding him in concern, and it seems at some point Professor Kukui had arrived. Ah.

 

He takes a deep breath. “Sorry about that, guys.” He flashes a half-hearted version of his signature smile, but it doesn’t quite look right with his tear-track stained cheeks. His unsteady grin falters further as the others around him don’t respond, continuing to look on with varying degrees of sadness, horror, and disbelief.

 

It’s Kukui who speaks first.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

He’s sincere, genuine concern on his face, and Ash almost feels guilty for doing this to them. 

 

“Yeah… Just a nightmare. It’s over now.” He seems to be reassuring himself as much as the others. 

 

And it almost ends there, everyone going about their days, until Sophocles bursts out with a question that everyone secretly desperately wants answered. 

 

“What’s over?” It almost sounds innocent in the boy’s childish voice, but it’s not hard to pick out the sickeningly curious undertones. Kukui is instantly ready to round on Sophocles, to tell him off for treating an obviously traumatised classmate as a  _ science experiment _ , even though he himself, as much as he hates to admit, would do the same. But just as he opens his mouth, he’s cut off by a small voice coming from below.

 

“The Kalos Crisis,” Ash says simply, face carefully blank, eyes not quite meeting the others’. No details, though he doubts anyone will pry now. The Kalos Crisis made international news, and anyone who doesn’t live under a rock has heard about it. It was scary, but Alola had viewed it with a detached sort of sympathy - it was all the way in Kalos, far away from their sandy beaches and blue skies; seeing it only through the lens of a news camera made it less real. And so no one had thought much about the fact that Ash had been there, that he’d seen people die and possibly almost died himself. He’d mentioned competing in the League, hadn’t shied away from it, but now… it was all too clear the moments he’d cherry-picked to share, the details he was, probably still  _ is _ , trying to repress. And Arceus, Kukui had thought he’d been through a lot. With that thought, he stirs into motion.

 

“Alright, everyone out.” And at the cries of outrage that arise: “You can check on Ash later, when he’s feeling better. Out.” His authoritative teacher voice striking the students, they reluctantly file out of the room, stealing glances at a strangely quiet, unprotesting Ash.

 

Now alone, Kukui kneels down to Ash’s level, still a good few metres away. The trainer seems to be steeling himself, almost preparing for interrogation.

 

“Ash,” he starts gently. The boy still flinches. “You don’t have to tell me anything,” and in an instant Ash relaxes. Kukui knows that was the right move - even if the researcher part of him still screams to extract information, to not waste this valuable first-hand account of what was possibly a pivotal point in Kalos history… He just can’t. Maybe, once upon a time, he would’ve. But now, as a teacher, his students come first. A life is more valuable than a research paper, whether that be keeping someone alive or simply allowing someone to live in the present.

 

“Thanks Professor,” Ash sighs with relief, PIkachu adding its own two cents with a small agreement of ‘Pikaa.’ Saving Kukui the questions, he tacks on, “I’m alright!”

 

His bright voice so soon after his tears stirs up suspicion in Kukui; as if sensing the doubt, Ash’s grin grows wider, and this time there are no cracks. A genuine grin, so quickly replacing the horrors of his past life… Kukui would be impressed, if it wasn’t such an upsetting situation. How many times had his border woken up from nightmares, only to plaster this smile onto his face and act like nothing had happened? How many times had Kukui missed the signs of a struggling teenaged boy, haunted by his past? The fact that such a battle oriented trainer had actively chosen to remain for an indefinite amount of time in a region without a League… It had never occurred to him why that might be. He feels sick.

 

“I’m really sorry for disrupting class,” Ash says, and bows his head. Kukui wonders why he even feels the need to apologise. “If it’s alright with you, me and Pikachu are gonna go for a walk. Clear our heads,” he glances to his teacher, who simply nods. The duo hop up and head for the doorway, seemingly already falling into their own world.

 

“Be back by dinner!” Kukui calls, without much conviction, after the retreating forms. He’s not entirely sure they’ve heard, but it’s ok. He can save them a plate. 

 

He needs time to call Delia Ketchum, anyway. Preferably lots of it.

**Author's Note:**

> i love over-analysing characters who aren't meant to be over-analysed lol. wrote this a bit weirdly so tell me any mistakes you spot please


End file.
